* * *
LILLY
The next few days establish my new routine. I wake up, and with Jacky’s help, get washed and dressed. Then she takes me outside in the chair, and I practice walking, again with her help, getting a little steadier and stronger every day. It’s fucking crazy, my new life, but maybe this is the way it’s always been? And everything I think happened before was just a beautiful, wonderful dream?
My stomach frequently gives an almighty heave, my unborn child making its presence felt and making me think that it all couldn’t possibly have been imagined. Otherwise, how did this one come into existence?
I often see the Kent twins and they always make me smile, reminding me of each of my potentially imaginary lovers in various ways. Their playful banter, their sense of brotherhood, and the darkness that lurks within them, waiting for an outlet.
One morning, about a week after my first trip out of my room, I’m outside, walking around the rose garden with Jacky and admiring the buds that are just waiting to burst into fragrant bloom. One of the boys—Roman, I think, as his face is a little fuller than Rowan’s—rushes over.
“Thank fuck–I mean thank goodness I found you, Jacky,” he says, his voice a little breathless, although the lack of colour in his cheeks gives lie to the picture that he ran all the way here. Or maybe he’s just that fit. “Your mum is on the phone, something about your father having a fall and in hospital.”
A pained gasp leaves her lips, and I stagger as she shifts forward, loosening her grip on me slightly.
“Oh goodness!” she exclaims, looking round trying to spot the chair to help me back to it. But it’s nowhere in sight, I was trying to push myself today and managed to go further, meaning that we’re inside an arched walkway, out of sight of the house and patio where the wheelchair sits.
“I can help Lilly if you want to go now. She sounded pretty upset,” Roman adds, and although he looks sincere, I’ve had some experience—I think—with trickster boys, and there’s something a little off about his expression. Almost triumphant. My eyes narrow at the same time as my skin prickles while looking at him, sure that he’s up to something.
“I–I don’t know. I’m not meant to leave her alone…” Jacky frets, and I’m sure she’d be wringing her hands if she weren’t supporting me.
“I’ll be fine,” I assure her, feeling a pang at the thought of her dad in trouble and her mum all alone. “I won’t be alone. You should go.”
She takes another millisecond, chewing her lip, but worry obviously wins as she gives me a small nod, her gaze already back towards the house.
“I’ll take good care of her,” Roman persuades her, wrapping his arm underneath mine. He’s taller than Jacky, around the same height as Ash I think, so he has to stoop a little, but seems to be okay. Then I shake my head.Ash might not even be fucking real, Lilly.
We watch as Jacky rushes off, and he doesn’t speak until she’s rounded the corner and is no longer in sight.
“They said you were like a pixie,” he tells me, and my heart stutters in my chest, the world dropping away at his seemingly innocent sentence.
“W–what?” I reply, my voice a breathy, trembling whisper as I crane my neck and look up into his usually laughing brown eyes. Today they’re full of seriousness, and a touch of melancholy.
He doesn’t respond, and I catch movement in the corner of my vision. I look down to see that he’s reaching into his pocket, my chest tightening painfully at the move, then flinch my head back slightly when he pulls out a white earbud headphone. Before I can utter another word and give voice to this fluttering in my stomach, he pops it in my ear with a kind, sad sort of smile.
“Princess?”
My limbs go weak, and Roman grunts quietly as he takes more of my weight, my fingers digging into his arm. I know that voice, dark as a moonless night, but the kind of dark that hides you from the monsters seeking to steal you away.
“Princess, tell me you’re there,” the voice begs, a catch that I’ve not heard from my darkest Knight before.
“A–Ash?”
“Fuck, Princess…Fuck, it’s so good to hear your voice,” he replies, a sort of hiccupping laugh sounding in my ear as tears rush to my eyes.
“You’re…you’re real,” I state, not a question, more a breath of relief, the yearning in my soul increasing tenfold at just the sound of his voice.
“Yeah, Baby Girl, we’re real,” another deeper voice tells me, a similar stutter to Ash’s marring his usually gravelly tone.
“Jax,” I rush out with a sob, my free hand flying to cover my mouth, the other wrapped around Roman’s waist. The salt of tears drops onto my lips, letting me taste my relief, my sadness, my heartbreak at being apart from the other parts of my soul.
“Don’t cry, Pretty Girl,” yet another voice pleads, one that’s usually full of mirth and mischief.
“Loki!” I cry out, my palm moving to my rounded stomach, and our baby gives a kick, as if it knows that its fathers are on the other end of the line, and is desperate to meet them.
“We don’t have much time, darling,” the final of my Knights says, the melody of his voice dulled slightly.
“Kai,” I whisper, closing my eyes as a smile tugs the corners of my lips up, the shadows cast by the plants around us feeling like the caress of my men. My Knights.